The Monster in the Mirror
by thegoodnaysayer
Summary: Simon struggles to accept his transformation.


Simon stood in the bathroom of his apartment, staring at the mirror, and made mental notes of every change in his appearance. The face staring back at him was like a stranger to him, and he was disgusted by it.

Simon rarely ate these days, so now his face was gaunt. That, along with his sickly, greyish-blue complexion, made him look like a corpse. His thin face also made his milky white eyes and the long, grotesque nose stand out even more. His hair was now almost completely gray, no longer showing any hint of the dark brown it used to be. It framed his face like a dreary curtain. He had long given up on taming it, just as he had his beard. His hair grew at an unnatural rate, and by now, no matter how often he shaved and cut it, it was hopeless. Even his teeth were different; weeks ago, he lost each tooth one by one, and they were replaced by longer, pointed, shark-like teeth.

As much as it pained him to say so, there was a part of Simon that was glad Betty left before she could see what he would become. God, how revolted she would be if she saw him now.

Revolting. Disgusting. _Monstrous_. That's what Simon was now, and by the look of things, it would only get worse for him. He didn't know when this nightmare would end, if it _ever_ ended, and it was all completely out of his control.

Simon tore his eyes away from his reflection, choking back a sob. His body shook as tears ran down his face. Suddenly, feeling overwhelmed with his frustration, he let out an agonized yell, and pounded his fists against the mirror. He struck the mirror again, with more force, this time shattering it.

Simon kept his hands pressed against the broken shards of glass, waiting a moment before raising his face again. The mirror was still intact, at least for the most part. But still, for his reflection to be in these many pieces, it was a vast improvement from the way it was before.

As Simon pulled his hands away, he saw blood smeared on the glass. He glanced down, and saw the deep cuts in his hands, and the blood dripping to the floor. It was only then that he registered the pain searing through his hands. He didn't really mind it, though; the sharp pain was a nice change from the dull, hollow numbness he usually felt. However, it also served as a cruel reminder that he was in fact alive and awake; that the past few weeks hadn't been some nightmare he had yet woken up from.

Simon sat on the floor of his bathroom, with his arms draped over his knees. He suddenly felt exhausted, and couldn't will his body to do anything more than simply watch blood drip from his fingers, forming small puddles on the tile. His blood, he noted, was still red. He felt a strange sense of relief from this; there was a part of him, after all, that remain unchanged. He was grateful for this.

After a while he finally rose, turned on the sink, and ran his hands under the cool water, rinsing off the blood. When he was finished, he picked out the few bits of glass imbedded in his cuts, and then patted his hands dry with a towel. He knelt to open the cabinet underneath the sink, pulled out some gauze and bandages, and wrapped up his hands.

Simon walked numbly back to his bedroom and collapsed on the bed. He reached for Betty's pillow and held it to his face, breathing it in. Her scent was long gone by now, but he still found comfort in it.

Meanwhile, the crown sat on Simon's nightstand, and though he was facing away from it, he could still feel its invisible eyes on him.

"I do hope you're done being childish now, dear Simon," it said in a bored voice. "I've grown weary of your little tantrums. It's not very becoming of you."

The crown's voice made Simon's skin crawl. He gritted his teeth. "Shut up," he hissed. "How can you even pretend all this isn't your doing?! I _hate_ you."

The crown chuckled lightly. "No, you don't," it replied smugly.

Simon opened his mouth to respond, but was suddenly at a loss for words. Instead, he hugged the pillow tighter, blinking back tears.

As usual, the crown was right.


End file.
